Always Mine: GTA 5
by SuchaCarelessWhisper
Summary: One-shot: Michael would never admit it to anyone, it was even hard to admit to himself, but he would rather be in Trevor's clingy, very filthy embrace than Amanda's any day. Trevor/Michael fluff, language and drug use


**A/N: So, I really wanted to write a really good Trevor/Michael story, and this is what I came up with. It was meant to be dirty with a side of sad, heavy themes but it didn't turn out like that. Its pretty good still and I don't think it has much of a point but its still a good read...I guess :P **

**Disclaimer:******I do NOT OWN anyone or anything from the making of this story. I leave everything to amazing Rockstar and all that good stuff!****

**Warnings: Drug use, language and minor sexual themes (fluff)**

**Always Mine: GTA V**

**::**

Michael looked down at his watch. No wonder his damn stomach was growling. He ate a small lunch and now that it was passed 2 o'clock, he was beyond the hungry line. He returned to Trevor's trailer after a long afternoon at the bar. His stomach was full of booze but he still had enough room for the food he desperately craved.

After he stepped out of his car, Michael closed the door, the key rattled with every step he took up until he was facing the front door of the rust-coated, shitty trailer.

Damn, it was fucking hot out. He wiped away sweat with the soft backside of his hand and pushed open the creaky door only to witness something quite deep. Patricia was outside, busy with the garden. Nothing yet seemed to worry the man. When he stepped foot inside the trailer, what worried him was the sight of seeing Trevor shoot up on that piece of shit couch, legs spread wide and that built frame of his limp and still.

"What the fuck!" Michael kicked the door as soon as it came back to hit him, on a loose hinge and he went up to Trevor, rage dripping from his lips, burning in his eyes, and he reached forward quite swiftly and succeeded at taking away that syringe that was cradled in Trevor's calloused hand.

He could see the effectiveness of the drug quickly change the expression of his friend and that gruesome grin on his dry lips sent a wave of concern and anxiety down Michael's spine. He's seen Trevor this way several times before in the past, but not so deeply effected. His body was covered in blemishes, scabs and other imperfections that soon arrived after the intense use of meth.

Trevor's blood-shot sandy colored eyes traveled down Michael's thick body. He could only do such, seeing that he was so fucking high as a motherfucker.

Michael didn't need to look down at the syringe in his hand. He dropped it to the ground and stomped on it as hard as he could. The sound of the glass breaking was quite an overwhelming relief. "Knock this shit off, T!" Michael growled deep and pressed his foot harder against the broken glass beneath his shoe, listening to it crunch into several more little pieces, keeping his distance.

Trevor narrowed his eyes and he shifted his legs, pulling them wider apart if that was even possible. Their eyes met and when they did, Michael turned away, looking down at the mess underneath his shoe.

"You knock your shit off M, and I might think 'bout it," Trevor hollered, pointing a finger straight at Michael, who was busy rummaging through Mr. Philips food empty fridge. The older ex-bank robber pulled out a lukewarm bottle of pisswasser from the door in the fridge, held it up and made a nasty face. He closed the door, shrugged his shoulders, popped off the tab and before the mouth of the bottle could reach his lips, Michael was smashed right into the fridge, the bottle falling instantly from his fist.

He grunted and his cheek and stomach had been the two things that suffered the pain. "Jesus fuck T, get the hell off of me!" Michael's mouth spit viciously, and sudden pain began to erupt straight up his back, where Trevor had pressed his forearm into.

His body moved against the fridge and Trevor's violent pin. Nothing seemed to get the other man off. "I don't know what the fuck is goin' on, but it needs to really fuckin' stop!" Michael mumbled against the fridge, moving his feet and kicked the bottle in the process. Trevor didn't say or even murmur one single word.

"Nobody comes into my damn home and tells me what to fucking do, 'specially someone like you, Townely!" his wicked voice finally found a way to Michael's ears and he used his opposite hand to snake around the back of his neck, using a knee to spread Michael's legs.

Michael could surely take him, but being in this position, arms and legs pretty much useless, Trevor definitely had the upper hand. He was high as fuck and that wasn't good. "I just hate seein' you do that shit to yourself T, now let me go and I'll get outta' your fuckin' hair," he explained, realizing that it was almost a struggle to speak, moving his body along the surface of the fridge.

"Or what's left of it," Michael cruelly finished and Trevor's forearm dropped, but the hand around his neck hadn't. It grew tighter and that built frame of T's came closer. A growl escaped his chapped lips and with his right knee, Trevor forced it between Michael's thighs, and purposely jabbed the unsuspecting man in the groin. A sudden gasp left Michael's body and in just seconds, Trevor was flush against the older man, chest to back, dick to ass.

The contact was definitely expected but the way Trevor executed it made Michael's body shake. "Don't say...say such mean things to me, Mikey, you know I don't like that," the taller man cooed, pressing his lips snug against the other one's ear, flicking the tip of his tongue into the clean hole.

Michael was still pressed pretty good against the refrigerator and wiggling around was just making things worse for himself. His fingers were desperately looking for something to dig into or grab onto, but there was nothing there except the sides of the hard fridge. "Trevor, knock it off, you're fuckin' high," Michael cried out, but instead of a loud cry like he had expected it to be, it was more of a deep mumble against the hard surface and an involuntarily shake of his hips.

A hiss later fled those lips of Mr. Philips and his teeth found the outside of Michael's ear, nibbles instantly turning into painful bites. "I might be-be fucking high, but I-I missed the fuck outta' you, sugar," Trevor's tone had died down too quickly and turned into something way more soft and almost bearable. His hand around Michael's neck fell loose, as his long fingers traveled south on De Santa's back, right down his spine. Michael let go of a growl. "Sugar is not my fuckin' name, Trevor, just let me the fuck go!" he slapped both of his palms against the fridge, making enough noise to shake Trevor, but only slightly.

"Shush your mouth and let me hold you," Trevor acknowledged the opposite man, burrowing his face into the backside of Michael's shoulder, taking in his expensive rich man scent. Part of Trevor's nose recognized the smell from years ago on Michael, but the rest could only stubbornly recognize the new smell he cringed at, using his long, muscled arms to wrap around Michael's waist. Michael jerked at the arms around him and felt himself slowly melting into Trevor. He was missed, Michael was actually missed by someone. Those words made his mouth dry and his heart pound. If only Amanda had said that to him.

Something about Trevor's lips spilling those words made him tremble. He knew Trevor Philips more than anyone else in this world; he was sadistic, psychotic, mentally unstable etc etc...he knew some of that man's secrets, knew what he liked, how he liked it, what he wanted out of a person. Michael knew that most of all, Trevor was a secret romantic.

Michael would never admit it to anyone, it was even hard to admit to himself, but he would rather be in Trevor's clingy, very filthy embrace than Amanda's any day.

"You didn't miss me, T," Michael's soft whispered words caused Trevor to remove himself from his hot body, hands now clinging to his hips, awaiting more to slip from Michael's smooth lips. "I missed you," he admitted finally and he didn't know it, but Trevor was smiling. Just with his arms around De Santa's waist, Trevor got what he really wanted out of Michael. It was almost surprising to hear it, but he believed him.

Michael Townely had been repressed for so long and he's actually starting to open up to Trevor a little bit. Back in the day, when they were younger, all that sex was nothing, didn't mean a damn thing to Michael. He needed to be cut open and shown his heart. That man had one and Trevor knew he did, but he's been too stubborn and repressed to admit his true feelings.

At this point, both of them were needy as fuck. They both knew they needed each other. Trevor had admitted it a few times, laughing afterward, but he meant it, but Michael never once said he needed him out of love or comfort, but out of help when they robbed those fucking banks.

Michael was way more desperate than Trevor. Having nobody in your life was one thing but having many people in your life that truly hated you was another thing.

Trevor's arms tightened around Michael and he turned to face the younger man. All of that anger was gone and it was quite the relief. Their gazes locked and a small grin found the corner of Trevor's lips. Michael could only swallow and shake. Trevor slid one hand up Michael's side, rolling over every curve and let it land gently over one cheek.

The older man took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and let it all back out, his warm breath meeting Trevor's face. A chuckle escaped Trevor's lips and before Michael had a chance to open his eyes, his lips were being consumed by the opposite man's. His eyes finally opened wide and the scent rolling from Trevor had been recognized. He reeked of booze, filth and gasoline. Michael was too familiar with his smell and it never changed.

Pressing his palms into Trevor's chest, Michael groaned against the kiss and attempted to push him away, but T wouldn't budge. Michael had eventually been caged in against the refrigerator, both of Trevor's arms being the gate.

Michael continued to wiggle and furrow his brows, but it didn't change anything. Trevor forced his hips into Michael's in a rough way, causing the shorter man to hit the fridge. The clinking sounds of the beer bottles inside made Michael whimper.

"You'll enjoy this Mikey boy," T removed his lips suddenly from Michael's and found his jade eyes. With a smile, Trevor quickly removed his gaze from Michael's down at the leftover space between both of their bodies. There wasn't much at all and Trevor, with a wicked grin, lowered one of his hands between them and let his fingers tap against Mr. De Santa's belt buckle. He tapped hard enough for Michael to feel it.

Michael used both of his hands to try and remove Trevor's but he was too stubborn. "Don't do this, T," De Santa shook his head and lowered his gaze until it met Trevor's exposed collarbone. Michael knew T was going to win this 'fight' if he didn't come up with something and fast.

With his opposite arm braced up against the fridge, right above Michael's head, Trevor played with all of M's hair, smiling at the way his soft locks would tickle his finger tips.

"Why me?" Michael asked, a hard swallow noticeable in his words as his eyes narrowed, meeting Trevor's that suddenly went wide at the question. Trevor stopped moving his fingers and brought his other arm up again and pressed it against the fridge, opposite of his other. He never once looked away from Michael's deep stare.

His chest ached and his head began to pound. "Wh-what do you mean?" Trevor sounded nervous, and Michael could hear his fingers tapping away against the fridge. Somehow, Michael got Trevor in an almost sedated state. He was calm and very quiet. It seemed that only Michael had the ability to do that to the psychopath.

Michael licked his lips and tasted Trevor. He unintentionally placed his hands on T's hips and looked downward. Trevor's eyes followed. "What the fuck do you mean, Mikey?" that curse startled Michael but he raised his head and continued to stare into sandy brown eyes. Michael took the time to think his words over and Trevor could see the change in expression. He lowered both of his arms and put his hands on Michael's waist, pinching at his soft flesh beneath that white undershirt.

It was quite a struggle to say what he wanted to say. "Why do you love me, T?" and with that said, Michael removed his hands and let his arms fall limp at his sides. Something about that tone of his made Trevor's stomach turn.

Love? Trevor Philips was definitely capable of love. The only person he ever loved as a child was his mother, now as a beat up meth-head, Trevor found out that the only thing he loved or even wanted to love was his best friend. The one guy he had always saw as his brother. He really loved Michael.

The word 'love' just didn't go well with the word 'Trevor'.

"Why do you ask such a ridiculous question?" Trevor asked back, cocking his head to one side and he threw his arms back up again, caging the shorter man in. His tone was sharp but his words were quiet as they slipped past his lips. Michael wasn't sure if asking that was a good idea, but he already got it out there and he wanted an honest answer.

"I left you T, I didn't even try to find you, I moved on with my life and I fucked it all up, so why, why the fuck do you want me so damn bad?" Michael inched a little bit closer to Trevor, both of them almost nose-to-nose. It seemed like Michael was initiating an argument or possibly a fight but Trevor wasn't having any of that shit. Without an answer or even a whisper from T, Michael put his hands on his chest and shoved him back as hard as he could.

Trevor nearly tripped over his own feet, trying to keep himself balanced from the sudden force. His stomach ached and so did his head. He felt nauseous, heart a beating mess and he went instantly hot. What the hell did he shoot up into his fucking arm?

"M," Trevor whispered, back meeting the side of the wall, opposite Michael. Michael had a cruel look on his gorgeous face and all T could do was smile. His eye lids went heavy and his legs weak. He had enough strength to keep himself standing.

"You, oh Michael, you were always mine," Trevor's deep gravelly voice returned to him and Michael's shoulders went slack. Their eyes met from across the room and Michael's brows twitched painfully. Trevor wobbled towards Michael and was grabbed forcefully by the shoulders and crushed up against M's lips. The contact was powerful and Trevor hummed against him, deepening the kiss, while keeping his weight upon the other man. Michael closed his eyes tightly and moved away from his lips, down to his neck.

Trevor put his arms around Michael and held him close, as those wet kisses continued to grow more and more intense. Trevor was surely enjoying this. He smiled and tilted his head, offering the man more room.

"I'm a fuckin' screw-up," Michael growled into Trevor's damp neck, biting as he went up. T hissed back and pulled at the back of Michael's head, a fistful of his hair. His head snapped back, back far enough for Trevor to get a good view of his throat. T leaned in to place a gentle kiss on M's Adam's apple and heard a silent whimper pass through.

"That is true sugar tits, but you are my screw-up," he acknowledged the man and continued to pull on his hair. Any further back and Michael's neck could easily snap.

"Whatever," Michael piped in with a small smile on his lips. Trevor finally let go and their eyes returned to one anothers. Trevor then put his hands back on Michael's hips and jerked him forward until their bodies met.

Michael cradled his arms over T's shoulders and their lips met again.

**::**

**E/N: This kind of took forever believe it or not. I find it kind of hard to write Trevor. He's a very complex character with a lot going on so it makes it extra tough for me to write him, but it is definitely fun putting him and Michael together, that's for sure! Well, I hope you readers out there enjoyed this little fluff. Snoop around my profile, there will definitely be more!**


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